


Mark Us

by catisacat



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 14:09:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11487981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catisacat/pseuds/catisacat
Summary: Wrench is ridiculously good at making personalized gifts and this year Marcus wants to get him one just as nice.Unable to think of anything by himself, Marcus asks Sitara to help him come up with the perfect gift.





	Mark Us

Marcus had been mulling over what would be the perfect five year anniversary gift for months now.

Quickly into dating Wrench he learned the man was absurdly good at giving gifts. He always, ALWAYS knows exactly what the perfect trinket for Marcus is. Nearly always handmade too.

Hell, three years ago Wrench did something he himself hadn't topped yet. Marcus had thought maybe he'd finally measure up giftwise that year, having gotten Wrench a custom made and wildly impractical spiked leather phone case. Name embossed on it and everything. Wrench loves wildly impractical things with his name on them.

However, Wrench had shown up to the date with naught but a small box. Inside? He'd welded matching weddings rings and was proposing. They looked badass as hell. They were great. Wrench proudly told Marcus he made them out of an actual wrench, not that you could tell. Store quality handiwork.

How could Marcus compete with incredibly well made, personalized gifts?

The answer rhymes with… with… nothing rhymes with Sitara. Sitara. She's the answer.

Marcus conscripted her to help with this anniversary months ago, giving her plenty of time to help him come up with something. Checking his phone to make sure he was at the right place, he knocked on Sitara's basement apartment door.

She swung the door open immediately, as if on cue and started dragging him in, “Marcus! Get in here, I had an epiphany, I'm a genius and you're gonna have the perfect gift. You're welcome.”

“Thank you?” Marcus laughed, “You know I've gotta okay the gift first, right?”

“You'd be a fucking idiot if you said no though,” she retorted, pushing him into her kitchen through the paint splattered living room. She disappeared into a back room, leaving him to sit at the small table.

Looking around he got his first look at Sitara's new digs. It looked great, of course, but she definitely wasn't getting her deposit back. Every flat surface, and some not that flat, was painted and printed over. He smiled, imagining her excitement at a blank canvas. Everyone knew it had been hard for her to part with the old place her and Josh used to share but both knew it was time to live on their own.

His attention was quickly caught by the plate of cookies on the table. Calling out to her in the other room, “Hey Sitara?”

“What?”

“Can I have a cookie?”

There was laughter from the other room, “No, I put them there to torture you. Yes, you can have a cookie, why did you think I put them out?”

“To torture me,” he said, already with a mouthful of cookie.

Sitara returned with a handful of paper and a fistful of pens, “Nah, I’ve got other ideas about how to do that.”

He eyed her warily before looking suspiciously down at the cookie.

“I didn’t do anything to the cookie, Marcus. I’m not gonna poison you.”

“Better not,” he said, now suspicious of the papers in her hand as well.

“Calm down, jesus, you know I’m helping you, right?”

“Well, help me then,” he said, cramming another cookie into his mouth.

Pulling a chair up next to him she sat down, spreading out the papers so he could see what she’d drawn on them. He was baffled to see his husband’s name written multiple times, in different ways. Doodles around them of various related objects.

Marcus stared at her in confusion, “What am I looking at here?”

With a smug smirk she tapped on the edge of the paper covered in ‘Wrench’s, “My genius plan. You, my friend, are gonna get your first tattoo.”

For a second he looked horrified at the prospect but had an almost immediate change of heart when he realized that this was actually the perfect gift. Grabbing her shoulders he smiled, “Sitara, you ARE a genius! Do you think we could get the same person who does his tattoos to do it? Make ‘em look the same and shit.”

Sitara stood up, leaving him to excitedly look through her concept sketches, “I think that can be arranged.”

He jumped as a shoebox was dropped on the table in front of him with a metallic clang.

Unlike the sketches, he got this one immediately, “Holy shit, you’re the one who did all his tattoos?”

“Yuhp, every single one. Apparently he’d always wanted them but was too paranoid to let some rando near him with a needle. I told him I’m not a tattoo artist but he said he didn’t care. They’re not my best work but I think they look pretty good for being what they are.”

Lifting up the papers he pointed at a few of the designs, “Alright then, you’ve given him about fifty random tattoos and he’s not riddled with infections so this’ll probably be fine. Which one of these do you like?”

“Personally, I’m a fan of the one with his name on an actual wrench. I mean, out of context you’ll look like a jackass with a tool with the term for said tool tattoo’d on your ass but he’ll love it.”

“Woah, woah, woah, back it up, nobody said anything about the tattoo being on my ass.”

“Marcus, c’mon, you have to get it as a tramp stamp. You know that makes it like two hundred percent better, right? He’d love it and you know it.”

“Elated but I don’t want a fuckin’ tramp stamp, Sitara. I’ve got my dignity.”

Sitara gave him a sassy look to which he just shoved at her. Undeterred, she fought for her cause, “It’s one of the least painful places to get a tattoo.”

“I get shot at and fall off buildings for a living, I’m not tremendously worried about pain. Super high threshold by now.”

Out of more intelligent arguments Sitara took to shaking him and whining, “Marrrcuuusssss!! C’mooooon!!!”

“Damn girl, st- alright stop fuckin’ shaking me,” he said, trying to get her death grip off him.

“You gonna do it?”

“Fine, fine, fine. On one condition.”

Intrigued, Sitara stopped shaking him, “Being?”

“If I grow to regret it, I get to give YOU a tattoo.”

He extended a hand for her to shake.

“Deal,” she said, grabbing his hand with a firm grip, “Only because I know this is going to go over perfect. Absolute confidence.”

Sighing, Marcus stood up and let her drag him towards her couch, “I swear to god it better be.”

“It totally will,” she said, taking his jacket and tossing it in the general direction of her coatrack. Pushing him onto his stomach she settled herself between his knees, pushing up the back of his shirt to get to work. Redrawing the design on his back before she’d get to the actual needle.

Nerves evident in his voice, “You, uh, you’ve never had any trouble doing this right?”

“Not really. Nothing that’d affect you at least.”

“Elaborate?”

“Wrench used to be ticklish, made doing his stomach tattoos hell. You know the one of his name on his stomach? What am I saying you obviously know you’re fucking married. Dumb question.”

“Yeah, you could say I’m very well acquainted with your work. Intimately.”

“Ew, if you make me picture Wrench any more naked than I’ve already had to see him I’m drawing dickbutt back here too.”

“I’m shutting up, I’m shutting up.”

“But getting that one on there was an absolute nightmare. He was really, really adamant that he wanted it though. Come hell or high water. No idea why he was so set on it but you know what we did? Josh literally held him down by his shoulders while he struggled. Frankly, I’m surprised I got the lines that straight.”

“He’s not ticklish anymore, though. I know that too.”

“Yeah, after that he decided he wanted to stop being ticklish so he conscripted our help. Kept kamikaze’ing him while he worked. Eventually it stopped working, mind over matter and all. Are you ticklish?”

Marcus nodded against the cushions, “Yes and don’t you dare think about it.”

“Oh I won’t. At least not now,” she said, putting the finishing touches on the admittedly simple tattoo, “I mean, when you’re not gonna be under the needle it’s fair game though.”

“Sitara! I told you this in confidence,” he said in a mocking, fake-crying voice, “How could you?”

“I’m devious,” she said, pulling out the actual needle, “But not that devious- I’m starting the actual needlework now so try not to move, okay?”

His nod was cut short as he downright squeaked at the first touchdown of needle on flesh.

\---

It didn’t take long for Sitara to finish off the tattoo. Plain, no shading and black ink only just like Wrench’s array of pieces.

He kicked one of her dirty shirts off his foot, “Damn bitch, you live like this?”

She laughed at Marcus ignoring her incredibly messy room and trying to get a good look at it in her full length mirror, “Now that you’ve seen the darkest bowels of my apartment I think I have to kill you.”

“What, not more attached to me now that you’ve marked me?”

“You make it sound like I branded you against your will.”

Eventually gave up twisting and turning, “Can you help me get a better look at this? Your room’s dark as hell.”

It was. Like the rest of the apartment, Sitara’s room was heavily decorated with her art work. Unlike the relatively clean living room there were a shitload of sheets and clothes scattered everywhere though. He was ankle-deep in shirts and shorts and scarves.

“Alright, come back into the light and I’ll take a picture,” she said, gesturing for him to follow her to the singular window in the dim room.

Pulling out her phone she snapped a shot of her handiwork, reaching over his shoulder to give it to him. Looking at it for a second, Marcus smiled, “Looks good, Sitara. Does it make me look more badass? I think it makes me look badass.”

She laughed, “Are you gonna be one of those people who gets one tattoo and goes nuts wanting more?”

“You offering?”

“I’ve kinda always wanted to try something more complex. Wrench only wants his weird little disconnected ones. If you wanna do one hell of a trust fall with me? We could try to give you a sleeve.”

“Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“I’m not hear a ‘no, Sitara, I don’t want to do your super cool idea.’ Also don’t be surprised if Wrench likes it so much he starts encouraging you to get more.”

“Oh, he’s gonna. Probably gonna want to get matching ones and shit now. He loves those big, dramatic, romantic gestures. Probably a good thing, I know I can be a bit practical when it comes to that. Prolly why he’s so much better at gifts than me.”

“To be fair, you give pretty good gifts. He’s just obnoxiously good at them. Every Christmas he makes whatever I get him look like shit. Also I’m pretty sure he’d die of malnutrition or substance abuse without you so,” Sitara said, only half joking.

Marcus nodded, “Yeah he’s… I’m pretty sure he ate only things that don’t require being cooked or microwave food for at least a decade. Or more.”

“Exactly. But you should get home and show him already, it’ll look a little fucky and gross until it’s healed but, you know, you can still read it,” she said, putting a bandage over it.

“Alright, thanks Sitara, you’re a lifesaver,” he said, wincing at the shirt falling back over it as he gave her a hug.

Waving goodbye as the door closed behind him, she pulled out her phone again.

It’s a good thing Marcus observes the common courtesy of not flicking through her gallery. After looking at her handiwork on Marcus’s back she swiped to the next picture. Only from yesterday, she admired her first tattoo of the week.

Considerably lower and bit off center to avoid his other tattoos, was a tattoo of Marcus’s name on a smartphone. Honestly, it was closer to being on Wrench’s ass but given how weirdly placed the rest of his tattoos were Sitara did her best in making it a tramp stamp. He was really dead set on that concept.

Smiling, Sitara was glad she’d managed to convince Marcus to get one too. She was particularly proud of turning a mirror on Wrench’s gift. Honestly? Until he’d come to her asking for a tattoo of Marcus’s name she’d had no idea what to suggest as a gift.

Completely happy with managing to help both her friends surprise each other Sitara sunk onto her couch, wishing she could be a fly on the wall when her meddling comes to fruition.

**Author's Note:**

> this is some next level "focus on female character even when writing a m/m" fic considering Wrench himself at no point physically appears in this


End file.
